


We All Fall

by Cobrilee



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee
Summary: Derek has a thing for Stiles’ bed. Stiles doesn’t question it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [We All Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452463) by [menthol_ocean (Risu_kii)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risu_kii/pseuds/menthol_ocean)



He doesn’t know when it became a thing, just this everyday occurrence neither of them blink at. He would come home and find his bed occupied; long limbs spread out, sprawling, and it was both somehow surprising and yet the most natural thing in the world. He’d see his face smoothed out peacefully, one leg sticking out from the side of the bed, sheets slung low over hips he’d seen dozens of times, his fingers itching to stroke and soothe and pet.

He hovers now, biting his lip as he hesitates beside the bed, wanting to sit down in the chair on the other side and just watch until he wakes up, or to sink down on the edge of the bed and maybe curl up with him. Instead, he crosses over to his dresser and slides the drawer open as quietly as he possibly can. Shucking his work uniform, he eases into a faded tee and a pair of sweats that dip low on his own hips. 

“Stiles?” Derek slurs, rolling over a little and blinking up at him blearily. “When’d you get home?”

“Few minutes ago,” Stiles murmurs, turning enough to see Derek propped on one hip, running a hand through the hair that’s sticking up adorably on one side. “Go back to sleep, Der.” He knows Derek hasn’t been sleeping well again; Stiles has been home a lot more lately, and with his bed occupied, Derek’s gone back to sleeping in his own. It means he doesn’t sleep more than a few hours a night, at best.

Derek grunts, flopping back down. “Should get up,” he mumbles into the pillow. “It‘s your bed.”

“I don’t care,” Stiles replies, voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to sleep more than I want my bed back.” He could go sleep in Derek’s, actually. He’d rather Derek be in it, but he likes being surrounded by Derek’s scent. It helps  _ him _ sleep better.

There’s shuffling in the bed, the sound of sheets sliding against each other, and then, “C’mere.”

Stiles blinks, his eyebrows furrowing as he studies where Derek’s shifted to the side. “What?”

“Get in.”

He’s halfway to the bed, foot lifted to take the next step, but he can’t make himself do it. He’s halfway between backing away safely or falling over the edge.

“Stiles. Get. In.”

He falls. 

It's strange, this sensation of being  _ home _ as he slides into the bed. Technically it  _ is _ home, it’s  _ his _ bed, but it's never felt like  _ this.  _ It was always just a place to go between shifts, a place to grab a couple hours of sleep here and there. 

He's warmed up to it gradually over the last few months, since Derek came back and revealed he didn't have anywhere to go. Stiles knew he could have an apartment within the hour, but he also knew that wasn't what Derek meant, so he didn't even hesitate before offering Derek his guest room. There were no conditions to the offer, no, “until you find a place of your own,” or “until you get back on your feet”. The offer was open-ended, and both men knew it. Stiles was pretty sure neither of them ever wanted him to leave. 

Still, despite enjoying the times he was home more than he ever used to, the house had still been just a house. The bed was just a bed. Then Stiles crawls into it with Derek, curls himself into the wolf's chest and burrows into his heat, and he feels like this is the only place in the world he belongs. 

He feels that way more and more as the days, weeks, and months pass, and Derek continues to eschew his own bed in favor of Stiles’. Stiles has no complaints. His heart settles contentedly every time he comes home from work to find Derek peacefully asleep in his bed, and he changes into his sweats and tee and climbs into bed alongside him. Derek always rouses long enough to sling his arm around Stiles’ waist, tugging him closer so he can hook his chin over Stiles’ shoulder, and then slips back into sleep. 

Stiles doesn’t know what they’re doing or what it means, but whenever he lets himself think about it, he finds himself smiling instead of worrying. That’s enough for him to let go of any obsessive tendencies he might be inclined to harbor. The other part of it is, he knows Derek is a man of action and not words. Derek might not be able to tell Stiles how he feels, but he’s sure done a damn good job of showing him.

When the morning comes that Stiles mentions turning Derek’s room back into a guest room, Derek’s eyes widen slightly, the tips of his ears turn pink, and he nods without saying a word. Stiles lifts his coffee cup to his mouth, and smiles.


End file.
